Of Hocus Pocus and Alliances With Shady Women
by PsychoticSushi
Summary: Willa, a bodyguard and thief, ends up in the morgue with a certain doctor and the world's most infuriating detective. After several odd linked cases,it becomes clear logic doesn't entirely apply.How to best catch a thief? Why, team up with one, of course.
1. You're Definitely NOT A Virgin

**I've never done a Sherlock fic, but I just saw the movie yesterday, and this idea hit me in 3rd period today while sleeping :P**

**I just HAD to do it tonight! haha.**

**Give it a chance, and enjoy.**

* * *

It had gone so perfectly. Run so smoothly. Just like most of her operations.

So how did she end up bound to this stupid table, the smells of the Louisiana bayou wafting through the windows, listening to this stupid witch doctor chant Latin mumbo-jumbo?

The hell if Willa knew.

But she DID know she'd be demanding a raise for this.

She continued to struggle against the ropes, but they were drawn tight.

All of a sudden, something begun to happen. This odd, tingly sensation came over her. To her horror, her hands and feet started moving on their own.

The witch doctor grinned, showing what little teeth he had. "It is working. May good will follow you, child. You shall need it where you're going."

She blacked out, panting and sweaty from trying to resist the seemingly instinctive movements.

* * *

"This one seems to have been possessed. You remember?"

"Ah, _that _one. From the other night."

"Precisely. Her wounds suggest struggle, obviously. Some wounds are sacrificial in origin, as well."

"Well, if you recall, we interrupted a ritual that seemed sacrificial. Honestly, can't you do better, and tell me something I haven't already deduced? Is THIS really what has been taking you so long??"

Willa had listened to these two male voices shoot back and forth, and was trying to fall back asleep to ignore the dull ache all over her body, but then she felt something touching her.

It was a warm pair of hands, one on her wrist, another on her neck.

She reflexively shot up, hand outstretched into a fist, hitting the man square in the nose.

The man stumbled with a groan, and Willa looked around the room.

Another man was watching her with curiosity and amusement, and she gave him a casual "'Sup" nod before hopping off the table.

She was still clothed, thank God.

Willa casually hopped over the poor man, who was currently tending to his bleeding nose, and ran for the door.

The other man simply cleared his throat, but in a way that caught her attention. "I wouldn't, if I were you. You'll be feeling that anesthetic in about five...four..."

Willa ignored him, yanking the door open, but then stumbled. She felt really sleepy.

"Three two one," her continued, pushing out a chair cushion on which her head fell upon, right on cue.

"You alright down there, Watson?" She heard him ask before blacking out entirely.

_**

* * *

**_

_**HOURS ****LATER...**_

Great. Now she ached even _more_. Willa clenched her eyes shut tighter as a yawn threatened to escape her.

She heard hushed talking, before a rather loud, "Ah, she's still alive after all."

Willa slowly opened her eyes, slightly worried about what she'd find.

The two men from before were there, in a different room. She could hear buggies going by, horses' hooves clomping, people shouting and the like.

One man, the one she had punched for feeling her up, had a bruise around the nose, but it didn't seem to be broken.

The other man, just like before, was watching her with amusement and curiosity.

"...Where am I? And who the hell are _you _two?"

The bruised guy seemed taken aback by her open swearing, but the other didn't seem too fazed by it.

"Why, how rude of us. I am Detective Holmes, and this is my colleague, Dr. Watson."

Willa looked between the two. "Why do you talk like that?"

"Like what, madam?"

"THAT!"

Watson folded his arms across his chest. "Perhaps the better question is why _you _talk and act like _that_. It's quite uncommon for young women around here."

Willa sat up and leaned her head against the wall, glaring at him defiantly. "Maybe I'm not from around here, then."

She took in their weird clothes, then paled. "...Where...WHEN is here, exactly?"

"London. Year 1887," Holmes answered in a "Duh" sort of voice.

He looked to his partner. "What kind of anesthetic did you administer to this one, exactly?"

"The same kind I always administer! This is NOT a side effect of my doing!" Watson replied defensively.

* * *

Willa stood up and immediately started pacing. "That....That's not _possible_!! It's not, it's _not_!! It's the year 2010, dammit! Holy hell!! What the...what the hell...this isn't..." She suddenly stopped her ranting and gasped, pointing at Watson, who couldn't help but jump.

"The WITCH DOCTOR!! Holy crap!! That shit _works_?! Oh...My...Holy hell...This, this isn't.."

"May I suggest you sit down and calm yourself? Your fainting spells are really starting to interfere with my case," Holmes commented, gesturing towards an empty chair by a passed-out dog.

Willa blinked at him, then slowly sat down.

"Now. You mentioned a witch doctor. Do you remember the events of two nights ago?"

* * *

She bit her lower lip in thought. The sooner she could remember it all, the better.

"Well, I had just finished a run for my boss, everything accounted for, and then...I remember someone grabbing me from behind. They put a cloth over my mouth, I assume a type of knock-out gas.."

"You mean anesthetic?"

"You have your terms, I have mine," she informed Holmes impatiently.

"My apologies."

"Whatever. Anyway. When I woke up, this crack-pot witch doctor had me strapped to a table and was shouting at me in Latin. Then he seemed all proud of himself, and my hands and such started moving of their own will. Then...nothing," she concluded thoughtfully.

Watson was about to say something, but then she jerked her head back up to look at them. "Wait. I remember waking up somewhere else, too. You know, before I punched you for feeling me up."

"I was NOT 'feeling you up'! I was searching for a pulse, I am a _doctor_!"

Willa waved him off. "Eh, whatever, minor details. I've been through worse. Either way, in this new place, I remember people in cloaks. They were all excited, something about time rifts existing and that their test was successful. And they all had rings with some kind of fat Chinese guy on them....Or maybe an ox or something, it was hard to tell..THEN I blacked out again."

Holmes clapped his hands together. "Brilliant, that sounds like the surroundings in which I found you."

Watson looked to Holmes, then back at her. "You mentioned a 'run' for your boss. What kind of run were you...well, running?"

Holmes waved him off. "I highly doubt she'll tell you the truth, Watson. It's not in her character."

Willa sat up at this. "...Character? How do _you _know my character, Mr. Holmes?"

"DETECTIVE. _Detective Holmes_," he corrected at the same time Watson sighed and muttered "Oh, not again," to himself.

"And I can tell quite a _lot _about your character, madam."

Willa smirked. "Oh really? Do share...MISTER Holmes."

* * *

He winced at the "Mister", then suddenly pulled up a chair in front of hers. She sat back down, and he flipped his chair around, so he was leaning forward on the chair's back, elbows folded on top.

Holmes stared at her for a while, and Willa matched his gaze evenly. "Hmm..what indeed can I see? Judging by the stench from the other night, which still faintly lingers about you, you deal quite a lot with guns and other various firepower."

"Nice one. What else?"

"Hmm. I can also suspect, due to the way in which you reacted to Watson's touch, you have issues with trusting people, particularly men. Childhood experience, perhaps?" He inquired.

Willa glared at him defiantly, to which he chuckled. "I shall take that as a yes. Also, I assume you know various self-defense techniques, seeing as you quickly regained your wits despite Watson's strong anesthetic. Enough to nearly dislocate his nose."

"Furthermore, you have never been married, and spend a lot of time in the sun. You are of middle-class. I can also see you are indeed from some foreign nation, due to your attire. Of which, I am not sure."

"And, lastly....you are most definitely _not _a virgin," he concluded smugly.

* * *

Willa was more puzzled than offended by that last one. "How the hell did you figure out that _last _one, Mr. Holmes?"

"Firstly, the way in which you took my inquiry about childhood experience suggests you either have a rather perverted imagination, or vivid memory of past affairs. Also, the way you respond to men's stares and touch. You can quickly assess them for what they are, unlike your average naïve virgin."

He lightly traced a finger across her forearm, then pointed at her face, making her jump. "See? A casual touch as such induces less-than-casual inferences. Amusing, is it not, Watson?"

Watson was busy tending to the dog nearby, barely paying attention to Holmes' ramblings. "Mmhmm. Fascinating."

Willa smirked defiantly. "I can assume quite a lot from you as well, Mr. Holmes."

He looked even more interested, propping his head up on his hands, formed into fists.

"Do tell, madam."

* * *

She searched his face. "Hmm. What indeed?" She asked in a mock British accent. "Well, quite obivously, you're extremely quick-witted. Highly intelligent. But you lack the ability to see the simple meanings behind simple actions, only seeing the actions themselves and complex meanings behind such matters."

Their vocabulary was already rubbing off on her.

"You've been in quite a few fights, judging by that scar by your left eyebrow there. I'm sure there are more underneath your clothes, around your ribs, especially. I'm also sure you've been in all _kinds_ of fights, from battles with villains, to bar-room brawls."

"Excellent. Do go on."

"Well, what else? Oh, you as well are CLEARLY not a virgin, that's for sure. In fact, I deduce you've had your heart broken by at least _one _woman."

She paused, then pointed at him. "See? Just mentioning heartbreak causes your eyes to appear more guarded. Amusing, is it not, Watson?"

They both glanced at Watson, who simply chuckled. Willa smiled innocently.

"Oh, right. FURTHERMORE...I also deduce that due to the kindhearted interior hidden behind your pure logic and observational reasoning...and due to my devilishly alluring looks...you will let me stay for a night or two until I figure out how I'll be finding my way home," she concluded smugly.

* * *

She waited, hands folded behind her head casually, as Holmes seemed to have a mental argument over the matter of letting her stay.

Watson paused, looking from the thoughtful Holmes to a patiently waiting Willa.

Holmes finally looked back at her. "Do tell, madam. What is your name?"

"Willa."

Holmes made a thoughtful noise. "Hm. Willa," he muttered to himself before glancing at Watson, who shrugged nonchalantly. "Not like _I _stay here anymore," he reminded Holmes, to which he winced.

"Ah. Quite right. Well, Ms. Willa, you better be prepared to pay rent."

**

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**Well, whaddaya think? **

**Reviews would be awesome.**


	2. Sherlock Holmes' Safe Contents Revealed!

"I didn't touch it," Willa threw over her shoulder as she heard Holmes checking his safe. He had done so every time he had come back from an errand for the past week.

She was currently scratching the dog's belly with her foot and watching the London Bridge be constructed; multitasking.

"Ah, of course not."

She shrugged. Maybe he knew she was a criminal. And like any other criminal, she was now extremely interested in the contents of the safe.

Willa stopped her foot, causing the dog to whine, and whirled around in her chair to look at him. "Do you mind if I try cracking it?"

* * *

Holmes blinked as if trying to figure out is she were serious. "...Come again?"

Willa rolled her eyes, rising out of the chair and stepping over random objects cluttering the floor, trying to make her way to the safe.

Holmes realized she was serious and started dodging objects as well, trying to pull her back. She merely sidestepped, hopped on books, and jumped over chairs to avoid him.

"I'm not gonna _steal _any of it, I just wanna _crack _it!" She cried out defensively as one of his hands just barely missed her shoulder.

Willa stopped in front of the safe. Holmes had beat her to it, spreading his arms against it protectively.

She crossed her arms and huffed at him. "Do you have any idea how _boring _it is up here? I'm not allowed to touch anything, all I can do is eat, sleep, and take care of the dog. When it's NOT knocked unconscious. You know, in _my _time, that'd be considered animal cruelty, and the EPA would lock your ass up in jail in a heartbeat!"

She took a deep breath from her rant, then pointed at him, making him blink. He never jumped when she startled him; always blinked.

It was annoying as hell.

"I'll tell you what. I'll pay you _double _the rent if you let me crack your safe at least twice a day and change the combination."

Holmes laughed once in reply.

"Triple!"

"...Really, now?"

"Absolutely!"

He seemed interested now. "How about this. If you can crack my safe _and _get to the valuables, I'll lower the rent by...20 percent."

"Thirty."

"Twenty-five."

"Twenty-eight."

"Twenty-seven."

"Only if you let me go outside once in a while."

"Done!" They shook on it, and Willa cracked her knuckles professionally. After all, this was what she was hired for nine times out of ten.

She _so _had this in the bag.

Willa tucked her auburn hair behind her ear before pressing it to the cold metal of the safe, turning the dial slowly and intently.

_**

* * *

**_

_**FORTY-EIGHT ****MINUTES LATER...**_

"Could you _please_ stop with that crappy violin playing?!" Willa hissed. She almost had it...

"Hm. I dunno. Could you stop trying to unlock my safe?"

"No."

"Then there's your answer," Holmes replied cheerfully before returning to his stupid violin.

Willa finally heard it click in release, and grinned triumphantly as the door swung open. "You _really_ need some violin lessons," she commented before peering into the safe.

Holmes simply chuckled as her proud expression fell. It was empty.

Willa began feeling the edges; nothing.

She bit her lip in thought, and Holmes resumed the godawful plucking.

Finally, she snapped her fingers with a loud yell, causing one of his strings to pluck extra sharp. "Ah-HA!!"

She searched the back pockets of her shorts, but then stopped as she saw Holmes cocking his head at the action. Willa slowly turned her head to look at him.

"...Can I help you, Holmes?"

"Perhaps. What makes you think the solution is located near your _ass_, my dear?" He asked, barely containing the laughter in his voice.

Willa rolled her eyes, pulling out a lighter. "I have _back_ _pockets_, idiot!!"

She flipped it open, and reached inside the safe. Willa smiled happily as the light was blown by a draft, and felt for a crease towards the bottom right corner of the safe.

Sure enough, there was a tiny latch, and she flipped it open with a flourish. Inside was another empty compartment, to which she lit the lighter again.

The same process happened about five times, before finding the compartment with the valuables. Inside there was a few average-sized velvet and leather cases, a pocketwatch, some spare bills, and a few jewels. Family heirlooms, she assumed.

Willa grinned triumphantly, and Holmes made a face at the testing tube he was currently sitting in front of, as if it was all it's fault.

"Eh. A bit impressive."

Willa shrugged. "Not really." He just sighed and set his instrument on the table before rising out of his seat. He then walked out of sight, and Willa crept over to the test tube, curious as to what the hell could be so interesting about it.

Inside were dozens of tiny flies. How random. "DON'T let those damned bugs out!" He warned, making her jump and ram into the chair with her shins.

"Watson already tried that little joke. Twice."

He threw something at her, and she caught it a bit spastically. It was clothes. Men's clothes.

"You can't be seen in foreigner clothes like that. You'll stick out like a sore thumb," he commented as if it were obvious.

_Hm. He actually held up his end of the deal?_

Willa simply strolled to the bathroom. "Thanks. But don't think I won't be expecting a much lower rent!!" She threw over her shoulder.

Then she smirked slyly to herself as she twirled the tiniest item of the safe between her fingers; a locket, obviously female's.

_Can someone say blackmail??_

**

* * *

**

**Wow. I had always wondered what the hell could be in that safe of his. **

**Now I know!**

**Review.**


	3. Lovely Woman That is There, Detective

**Yay! Reviews!**

**Glad I seem to have made Holmes in character; tough job, that is.**

**Enjoy. **

* * *

"Do you wear men's clothing often?" Holmes asked randomly, following her down the stairs.

"Come again?" Willa asked, not bothering to turn and look at him. She wanted to reach the bottom step before he did, just so she could feel proud for the day.

Mrs. Hudson, the landlady Watson had mentioned (and Holmes had warned about), poked her head out of a nearby room at the sound of a female voice.

Her eyes widened as she noticed whose clothes Willa was wearing, and gave Holmes a rather suggestive look.

He merely smirked pleasantly. "Afternoon..._Nanny_."

She made a "Harrumph" noise and gave Willa a suspicious once-over before going back about her business.

Willa raised her eyebrows at Holmes as she opened the door. "Am I not the first woman to be dragged unconscious to your room??"

"That seems rather irrelevant, but maybe I shall answer that when you answer _my _previous question," he replied smoothly.

She narrowed her eyes. "Well played. Do you want me to _honestly_ answer, or _edit_ my answer?"

"The truth, of course," he replied with a scoff as she took in the bustling city.

_Ahhhh, fresh air!_

"Fine, then. I do sometimes, but only when I'm undercover or after I've...well, _been_ under someone's covers," she answered casually, biting her lip to keep from laughing or turning red.

Holmes simply blinked, as he always did when she said or did something unexpected. "....Ah. No wonder."

A few passersby shot her offended looks after her honest statement, but kept walking. Willa shrugged. He had asked.

"Wait. No wonder _what_, Holmes?"

He cleared his throat anxiously. "Er, nothing. I take it you shall be just fine on your own? You know how to return to Baker Street?"

"Sure." She _should_, considering how carefully she had memorized the portion of London she could see from the window.

With that, he turned on his heel and was gone.

Willa simply smirked and shook her head before continuing her usual brisk pace. He was a strange one, alright.

Then she felt a bit pissed; he hadn't answered HER question..

_**

* * *

**_

_**FIVE ****HOURS LATER...**_

Willa had surveyed all of London, seeing if there were any minor heists she could get away with. So far? Nicking a hot dog from a vendor when he wasn't paying attention.

She was rather disappointed; the cops were on every corner here. Public safety was of _much _greater concern in this period!

Very annoying, in her opinion.

That's why she took the back alleys; seeing if there were any cheap shops she could "look at".

Willa was completely immersed in her own thoughts, and was taken by total surprise when she was shoved against a wall.

"Well, lookie here," one of the men commented. His two friends snickered; Willa simply grunted.

He moved his arm from her neck to her waist as he searched her pockets rather intimately (pervert), leaving his other hand still holding her against the wall by her shoulder.

"What's a lovely woman like you doing in a dark alley like this?"

"Honestly? Looking for something to steal," she replied casually.

He laughed, and his boys laughed in a way that said they had no idea what was so funny; for that matter, neither did she. Willa was dead serious.

"You think you're tough, little lady? Think you can take me on?"

Willla quickly assessed his weakest points, nodding. "Yeah, actually, I do."

_**

* * *

**_

_**THREE ****MINUTES LATER...**_

All three men were either unconscious or groaning on the cobblestone pavement.

Willa wiped her hands together in a "Job Well Done" kind of way, and she heard a familiar voice clear their throat.

"Hm. Guess you didn't need our assistance after all."

Willa turned to look at them; Holmes was looking at the men in interest, and Watson seemed to be amazed.

She shrugged. "Ehh. Easy men to overpower. Ringleader with a beer gut- enough said- and the other two were pansies."

With that, she slipped past them to the main streets. "I'll just be heading back for Baker Street now."

_**

* * *

**_

_**THE ****NEXT MORNING...**_

Willa was awakened _way _too early by clomping feet on the stairs.

Eyes still closed, she listened intently to see why there were...three? Yes, three sets of boots stomping so loudly at this hour.

"Detective Holmes??" One voice- male- asked urgently.

"Welcome back, gentlemen," was Holmes' casual reply.

_Damn, he gets up early..._

"Who's the woman??" Another man inquired.

"That seems rather irrelevant as to why you're here, doesn't it, inspector?"

_Nice save_, Willa thought.

But, as expected, the visitors simply chuckled. "No intrusion on privacy intended. Everyone knows men have needs, detective," another commented rather suggestively.

Willa wished she could roll her eyes, but she could feel all eyes in the room on her as she "slept", curled up in the corner.

"You came looking rather distraught?" Holmes prompted, obviously eager to change the subject.

"Ah, yes. There seems to have been a break-in at the museum."

"The one scheduled to open in a fortnight?"

"The same."

"Seems like something fit for your capable hands, Lestrade. Why alert me?"

"...It's quite difficult to explain. Do you remember the sacrificial case you had a couple weeks ago, detective?"

"Of course. My memory _does _tend to stretch that far back, inspector."

The man ignored his remark. "It seems to be of the same origin, Holmes. You should really see it. Our hands are tied as to who the culprits might be."

He sighed, but she could tell by his tone that he was eager to have a case again. "I shall be down as quickly as I am able, gentlemen."

There were comments of agreement and such, and the boots clomped back down the stairs.

One man sniffed before leaving, though, before remarking to Holmes, "Lovely woman that is, if I may say so, detective."

Holmes simply made a little grunt in agreement before the man shut the door. Finally, he made a clicking noise with his tongue.

"You can stop trying to eavesdrop now."

Willa sat up and stretched lazily, and he threw on a coat.

"Can I go, too?"

He laughed as if that were hilarious. "Why, of course you can't. You're a funny one, Ms. Willa."

Willa glared at him as he left. "Dammit."

As soon as he shut the door, she sprang up.

Running her fingers through her hair as a brush, she hopped over the usual obstacle course of the room before climbing out of a window, following him at a safe distance and behind random passersby.


	4. Stop Calling me WOMAN!

**Thanks for the reviews! haha some of them made me laugh- (coughcough, KimTheKat, coughcough)-, and some gave me some good advice.**

**So thanks!**

**WARNING: Severe immaturity at the hands of a certain detective and a certain woman is about to ensue.**

**You have been warned.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Willa was doing a pretty good job of keeping up with him, and was actually quite pleased that he hadn't noticed her yet.

So it made sense that she ran right into someone, making them both stumble with "Oof!" noises.

Willa brushed herself off, then blinked. "Watson? What're you doing _here_?"

He glanced around. "Walking. What does it _look_ like I'm doing here??"

She rolled her eyes. "What I _meant_ was why aren't you with Holmes?"

He smirked. "I _do _have a life besides Holmes, Ms. Willa. Why aren't _you_ with him?" He shot back.

Willa huffed. "Well, _actually_, I was trying to catch up when you _so rudely_ ran into me, Watson."

Then she smirked. "Wait. I know of only _one_ _reason_ men are in such a hurry. You have a girlfriend, Watson. And there _must _be food involved."

He was obviously surprised by her random- and scarily accurate- statement. "...Well, actually, she's my fiancee."

"Awesome! When's the wedding?" Willa asked eagerly.

"Soon, very soon."

His fiancee was lucky; his eyes lit up just at the mention of it. Willa grinned as well. "Apparently he's got another case. It has to do with the sacrificial case...it sounds _really_ interesting..." She prompted.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she simply folded her arms behind her back and started walking towards the route Holmes seemed to be on, turned backwards to face him.

"Though, I understand if you don't wanna check it out. What with you visiting your woman and all....too bad...it sounds almost _logic_-_defying_," she said innocently.

Watson glanced down the street, then hurried to follow her. "Ah, it _was_ a spontaneous visit, as it is. It can wait."

Willa simply grinned triumphantly. "So. Which way is this new museum?"

_**

* * *

**_

_**TWENTY ****MINUTES LATER...**_

Willa let out a low whistle as she walked through the museum doors. "Oh, thanks," she commented as Watson held the door open for her.

"This place is a bit creepy enough as it is without adding a crime," she muttered to herself. Watson looked around at it with keen interest.

Tribal masks in one corner, a Tombs of Egypt wing to their right, a little display case on how natives make shrunken heads, torches lining the walls....

"...I can't help but agree," he replied, and they both picked up their pace to find that damn detective.

* * *

Soon enough, they found him in the largest room; a sort of observatory with a glass ceiling, through which visitors could view the stars.

The fancy atmosphere was a bit ruined by the strange drawings and foreign symbols written all over the room in a kind of chalk.

There was a giant pentagram drawn on the floor, in the center of which stood Holmes.

He was currently bent on one knee, observing it as if it were extremely fascinating.

Watson glanced to Willa before going to talk with some of the Scotland Yard men that were now surveying the perimeter, wing by wing.

Willa crept over to where Holmes was currently spacing out before crouching down at his level.

"It's a pentagram," she stated in a "Duh" voice.

She half-expected him to jump, but he simply did that blinking thing again, and she couldn't help but huff in disappoinment.

"I'm quite aware of what it is. It's what's on _top _of the pentagram that intrigues me."

Willa cocked her head, staring at the drawing in confusion, but then she saw it. Footprints. "Hm. Wait here."

She then stood up and turned towards the exit. "What? You followed me all the way here just to _leave_?" Holmes asked, intrigued. "My dear, that takes the term 'tease' to a whole new, infuriating level."

Willa rolled her eyes and waved him off before heading for the big doors. "I'll be back, don't get your knickers in a twist."

_**

* * *

**_

_**TWENTY-EIGHT MINUTES LATER...**_

"Miss me?" Willa asked from behind, and this time, he nearly flinched!

_Progress._

She stooped down and placed the saran-wrap squares over each individual footprint. Holmes watched in interest. "I sure hope you know what you're doing, woman."

"Chill, _man_," she shot back before getting the mini-spray paint can out of her pocket and spraying the sheets.

Willa then stood up and nodded, satisfied. "Wait about ten minutes for them to dry, and voila! You've got prints to look at."

Holmes eyed her curiously. "Where did you get these items?"

"Bakery shop. The spray-paint I had with me when I somehow wound up here."

He cocked his head, looking at her butt, and Willa turned around quick enough to almost give herself whiplash to glare at him.

He seemed to be trying extremely hard not to laugh. "I was simply wondering how one could keep so many items in their...back pockets."

Willa crossed her arms. "Yes, well. It's an art." She then turned around, muttering darkly, "Pervert."

"I heard that."

"Good."

"Fine."

"Awesome."

"Jolly-good."

"Right fine."

They both took in deep breaths. "I'm not going to be _foolish_ and try to fit in the last word," he stated simply.

"Good. You wouldn't be able to."

"Very well then."

"Fine."

_**

* * *

**_

_**THREE ****MINUTES LATER...**_

"I'm sure Holmes will have this case closed within the week," Watson was saying to Lestrade, but trailed off after hearing yelling down the hall.

They exchanged a confused look before running for the exit to see the source of the argument.

They both blinked in annoyance. Holmes and Willa were currently shouting random phrases back and forth so desperately one would think their lives depended on it.

"As I said, it's _jolly good_!"

"Then _why_ keep repeating optimistic phrases?!"

"Just to make sure you get the point!"

"I _get_ it!!"

"Good!"

"_Good_!"

"Fine!!"

"Very well!"

"Jolly good!"

"That is MY phrase, woman!"

"I don't see your _name_ on it, Holmes!!"

"Oh, rather immature argument, don't you think, woman?!"

"Stop calling me _woman_!!"

"Why? Are you a _man_, my dear?"

"NO, that's besides the point! I have a name, _use_ it!"

"I am. It's the name of your gender. Synonym for female. WOMAN."

"Stop _calling_ me that!!"

"Stop saying my _phrase_!!"

"Or what, you'll _sue_ me, MISTER Holmes?!"

"DETECTIVE Holmes. And yes, I just might do so!!"

"Well, then. That's just..._jolly_. _Good_!"

"Woman."

"Jolly good."

"_Woman_."

"Jolly good!"

"Woman!"

"JOLLY GOOD!!"

"WOMAN!!!"

"JO-"

"BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!!!" Watson shouted, and at the same time Lestrade blew his whistle, causing all three to cover their ears spastically and glare at the inspector.

Holmes cleared his throat. "I believe I have all I need for now. Shall we go, then?" He said simply, waving some weird ink-stained wrappings in his hand.

_God only knows where he got those_.

Willa nodded casually. "Do let's. Don't you have to be somewhere as well, Doctor Watson?"

Watson sighed in annoyance, giving Lestrade a look that said, "I totally agree, my companions really _are_ clinically insane and unbelievably immature."

Lestrade simply chuckled at Holmes before cocking his head at Willa. "I can see why she's still around, detective."

Holmes rolled his eyes, and Willa simply blinked innocently. "Hm."

"'Hm' is not a word, so don't go thinking you won this conversation."

Willa smirked. "Fine."

"Dammit," She heard him mutter under his breath.

"Just come along."

"Stop that!"

"Stop what?"

"Finishing the conversation. It's rather unattractive in a woman, you know."

"Then I must be _really_ ugly," she replied pleasantly.

Watson just sighed and shook his head. He knew trying to break this little argument up wouldn't do any good whatsoever.

Let the two imbeciles battle it out. _His _home was going to be nice and peaceful tonight either way.

_**

* * *

**_

_**FIVE ****DAYS LATER...**_

Willa sighed for about the fifth time that night. How was she still here? She had figured it was a dream or something, and had been expecting to wake up at any moment.

Yet here she was, wandering the streets of London, all lit-up in its late night 19th century glory.

And of all people to be stuck with. Well, Watson was fine. But she couldn't be sharing a roof with the _tolerable _one, oh _nooooo_, she had to be stuck with a man with the maturity level of a five-year-old!!

Willa huffed angrily, then abruptly stopped.

Was that the welcoming noises of a fight club she heard? "Doth my ears deceive me?" Willa asked in a ridiculous British accent before following the sounds eagerly.

Nothing better for the soul than watching two sweaty men- usually fit, a bonus- battle it out.

* * *

Her eagerness went right out the window when she saw who was in the ring. It was the man she saw almost every day, whether she wanted to or not.

Well, _that _was no fun.

Willa sighed and stealthily snuck a bottle of some liquor from a nearby stand before leaning against a wall to watch.

He was up against some younger dude, probably even younger than her, but damn could the kid fight.

In fact, it was kind of nice to see Holmes taking some hits.

Then again, he _was _a detective. Not Jackie Chan. She sure hoped he didn't get himself killed in the ring, she had seen that happen once.

"Although....the rent would be free then," Willa thought out loud. "Hm. Maybe him getting himself seriously injured wouldn't be _so_..."

She trailed off as she watched Holmes do a roundhouse, followed by a sweep-kick, and several other kick-ass moves she couldn't even guess a term for, leaving the poor guy on the ground in a daze.

The room was silent, and then cheers rang amidst some groans as money was paid up. A few patted Holmes on the back and such, and Willa followed him back up the way she had came in shock.

* * *

"What was that? _What _was _that_?!" Willa asked.

He didn't even turn around. "What was _what_, woman?"

She promptly ignored the W-Word as she matched his pace. "THAT! You just totally _owned _his ass! Where the hell did all that come from??"

Holmes merely smirked. "You think I don't know how to fight, woman?"

She let out a sharp laugh. "Not anymore."

"You sound impressed."

She sniffed importantly. "I've seen better."

"Not from yourself, though, am I correct?"

Willa scoffed. "I could take you on."

Holmes laughed as if that were the funniest thing he had ever heard, then tossed his shirt at her.

"You want to bet, woman?"

Willa simply dropped his shirt in the lap of the nearest hobo. "I'm not your maid, nor your nanny. Carry your own damn shirt. Or wear it. Your choice."

Then she groaned. "Oh great. I sound like my mother.."

"Your mother had to demand you put your shirt back on?" He asked with a laugh. "Interesting."

"NO, that's not what I meant!" Willa protested, grabbing the stupid shirt from the hobo with an apologetic smile at the poor guy.

Holmes kept walking, and she ran after him down the street as passersby wondered aloud to each other about her sanity.

"Hey!! Come get your goddamned shirt!!!"


	5. She Shall Be the Death of Us All!

_**TWO ****WEEKS LATER...**_

_**BOOM! BOOM-BOOM!**_

Willa shot up with a yell, but then sighed.

_Just Holmes. With a gun. Shooting it....wait, what?!_

"HOLMES!!!" She shouted over the gunshots.

He simply turned his head and nodded casually.

"Ah. You're finally awake, woman. Behold! I am on the brink of a breakthrough. Muffling gunshots!"

"It's not working very well!!!"

"I said I am on the _brink_. I have not _quite_ reached success yet," he stated matter-of-factly.

Willa rolled her eyes. "I can see that."

He stopped his gun-slinging persona for a moment, accessing her. "You don't think I can do it."

"In a word, no."

"That was four words. Four _incorrect_ words. I am _telling_ you, I _am_ close to success, woman!"

Before Willa could argue or Holmes could resume shooting, Watson cautiously opened the door, Mrs. Hudson trailing behind.

"Holmes, not _this_ again," he said with a sigh.

Holmes cocked his gun defensively, and Mrs. Hudson made a little yelp sound before shifting completely behind Watson.

"As I told this _woman_ over here, I am on the brink of success! I am _certain_ of it! Instead of using just the standard-paneled wall, I've sewn cushioning onto it, along with a little trim off of Gladstone's coat."

They all looked in dismay at the dog, but he looked normal, snoring away by Willa's feet.

"He doesn't mind. His coat was getting too long, anyway."

Willa eyed the makeshift gunshot-muffler on the wall warily. "Shouldn't you be trying to solve those three cases??"

* * *

The room fell silent.

Mrs. Hudson backed out of the room cautiously as Holmes slowly put down his gun and laced his fingers together rather ominously.

Watson sighed and went to grab a book, ready for an argument to ensue.

"Uh-oh," he muttered before flipping to the page he left off on.

Willa didn't back down, but merely sat a little straighter and blinked defiantly. "Well? I'm right, you know."

In the course of the last week or so, not only had he not yet solved the museum case, but Holmes was forced onto two more.

Vandalism of the same type, one of which seemed to be linked to the disappearance of a respected benefactor of Scotland Yard, Sir Richard Doyle.

Holmes cleared his throat. "The cases' trails have grown cold. I have been...pondering," he said importantly.

Willa couldn't help but let a tiny smirk show on her lips. "..._Pondering_? You men. Honestly, this is almost as bad as men and directions, you and these cases!"

"I have no need of directions."

"Everyone needs directions once in a while."

"Not I."

"Yes you."

"Name _one_ circumstance in which I might ever need directions!"

"Let's say you went to Central America to find an ancient civilization, which contained a rare relic in one of its temples."

"I would simply find the correct trail after observing the natives."

"There _are_ no natives. It's considered a cursed ghost town. Hence why the relic hasn't been stolen by graverobbers yet."

"Then I would be able to find it even easier. No one would go near that direction."

"Yes, but after following the abandoned road, it forks. The only scenery or landmarks from this point on are abandoned road systems, vines, and of course a few snakes. What would you do then, huh?"

"Well, then, I would not be able to ask for directions in the first place. If it really is a cursed town, I would follow the path on which there is the thickest growth and more abundance of animals that are skiddish of humans."

They had been shooting these scenarios back and forth while pacing around, and Willa abruptly turned towards him and crossed her arms triumphantly.

"Yes, but like I said, it's a system of roads. It could take someone all _day_, even _with _your smarts. And all this extra planning could have been avoided if you had simply asked for

directions."

Holmes held up a finger, opened his mouth to speak, closed it and dropped the finger, then opened it again. "....Perhaps you have won this discussion. Very quick thinking, I like that."

Willa's triumphant grin simply grew. "BUT!"

At this, both she and Watson sighed. Holmes and Willa looked at the doctor, who cleared his throat and turned the page, eyes focused downward as if it were extremely fascinating.

"But what, Holmes?" Willa asked dully.

"But in your case, quick thinking bodes ill for the rest of us. Now, I need quiet so I can think....._woman_."

Willa rolled her eyes and rolled up her sleeves. "Fine. Good luck with that."

Before leaving, she poked her head back in the door. Holmes' eyes were closed, fingers poised against his temple.

He opened his eyes to give her an annoyed look after hearing the door creak. She blinked innocently.

"Holmes?"

"Woman."

"May I borrow a gun?"

"Abso_lutely_ not."

Watson chuckled before turning a page. "There's a gun shop downtown, Willa."

She beamed before sticking her tongue out defiantly at Holmes. "Why, _thank_ _you_, Watson! What a _wonderful_ gentleman you are."

* * *

"Splendid. She shall be the death of us all now, and _you _are to blame." Holmes stated as he heard that infuriating woman go downstairs.

Watson looked up from his novel- _Oh, wait, MY novel_- in interest.

"At least I can take comfort in knowing she shall shoot you _twice_. You don't trust her, I take it?"

"Do _you_?"

"Quite a bit."

Holmes waved him off. "Eh, don't let her charming looks fool you, Watson."

Watson cocked an eyebrow. "I'm getting married, Holmes. Her 'charming looks' don't quite hold sway on how trustworthy I believe her to be."

He then got a rather mischievous look on his face. "Are you saying she's charming and attractive? _You_?"

Holmes scoffed. "You misread my meaning, Watson. I've dealt with women like her before."

Watson scoffed this time. "Oh, you mean Adler? I have to disagree."

"You think I'm wrong?"

"I _wish_ they were more the same. Irene hardly ever argued with you this much, she was much more mature. I had much less headaches in those days," he commented with a smirk, snapping his novel- _MY novel_- shut and setting it back on the ledge.

"Although I do agree on _one _count."

"And what would that be?"

"They _are _both criminals. Now if you excuse me, I must be meeting Mary for tea with the in-laws."

"Didn't you _already_ have tea with your in-laws?"

"No. I was supposed to, but instead I was thrown in prison after sinking a ship."

"How unfortunate," was Holmes' only comment as Watson shut the door.

Now he had no choice but to reflect on these godawful cases.

* * *

Willa was so happy, she felt like singing "I have a gun again!!" over and over. But doing so would probably get her in trouble with the policemen on the streets.

So instead, she patted the gun affectionately as it rested in her pocket.

She started thinking about the cases.

When she had been in the museum, those drawings had sparked a memory. It had made the memory of the night she was plopped into this period more vivid.

Yet she _still _couldn't remember who was responsible.

She was straining to remember the faces of the men at the ritual when a policeman abruptly moved into her path.

Willa blinked and glanced up at the man, recognizing him as one of the policemen at the museum that day.

"Excuse me, madam. I need you to accompany me. Right this way."

Willa eyed him warily. "...Okay..." He gently grabbed her by the elbow and led her across the street.

"Can I ask what exactly I'm in trouble for?" She asked, her gut telling her something was wrong here.

"Just come with me, miss."

Willa noticed they were now in front of a stagecoach, and she yanked her arm out from his grip. "Not until you tell me why I'm in trouble!"

He grabbed her arm back, twisting it behind her. She winced, then glared at him. "I'll ask one more time. Exactly what law am I breaking here?! Jay-walking?!"

"Who said anything about you breaking the law?" Was his sinister reply before moving her forward towards their transportation.

Willa wriggled and twisted out of his grip, and he quickly pushed her forward before banging her head against the hard metal stagecoach.

She was remotely aware of being pulled in by another set of hands before blacking out.

* * *

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	6. Holmes Just Can't Catch A Break, Can He?

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**Some of those reviews made me grin, and some made me flat-out laugh out loud. (gee, wonder who's THAT was...)**

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* * *

After hearing a knock on the door, Holmes realized he had been pacing. _Odd_.

Watson came in, glancing around. "Er, Holmes. Where's that novel I was reading earlier today?"

"I _imagine_ it is where you left it, Watson," he said in a distracted "Duh" tone.

Watson rolled his eyes before heading for the bookcase's ledge. "Considering how often you tend to hide items I have interest in, I think it quite prudent to ask first thing."

He then threw up a hand. "Ah-ha! It _has _been moved, Holmes."

"Then, in that case, it is most likely in my safe."

"Would you please retrieve it?"

"Are you paralyzed from the waist down, Watson?"

"Well, I have no clue as to the combination."

Holmes shrugged, glancing out the window. "Neither do I. That _woman_ keeps changing it at least twice a week."

"Why not watch her as she changes it? I imagine you watch her do everything _else_," Watson commented meaningfully.

"Do you honestly think the thought has not occurred to me in the past? Damn woman angles her body _just_ so, which keeps me from seeing the code. Bloody mischievous woman," he muttered in annoyance.

Watson simply chuckled in amusement. "I shall simply ask _her_ to retrieve it for me, then." He then glanced around. "....Speaking of which, where _is_ Willa?"

"Ah, you mean that..._woman_. Not here. Honestly, Watson, did you not notice how infinitely _quieter_ it was?" Holmes replied, glancing through the window again.

Watson cocked an eyebrow at his anxious behavior. "Are you _worried_, Holmes?" He asked incredulously.

He stopped abruptly and turned to look at Watson. "Worried? Not I. You must be mistaken. Although, I believe there might be cause to worry. _If_ one would worry over that...that..._woman_."

Watson's expression grew to be more and more amused, and he sat down in an armchair to hear Holmes' latest rambling.

"Do explain."

* * *

Holmes looked as if he didn't need an invitation to do so as he barely missed a beat in explaining.

"I believe I have noticed a possible connection to these string of vandalism cases. As you recall, key evidence was recently reported missing from the Scotland Yard files on the matters. This leads me to the conclusion that it must be a partial inside-job. One of the bobbies must be in cahoots with our culprits. And _if_, in fact, that woman was meant to be a sacrifice, there must be a certain attribute of hers that they are after. Most likely some _physical_ attribute that singles her out to these culprits," he explained before stopping thoughtfully.

Watson took this time to clarify some things. "So. Inside job, culprits are looking for a certain attribute...most likely her...'charming and attractive looks', as you so eloquently put it-"

"I said nothing of the sort."

"If I recall, you _did_, this very morning."

"I merely pointed out that, like Adler, she could quite easily be- and probably is- a wily temptress with no known cause but her own," Holmes replied smoothly.

Watson simply chuckled before looking out the window as well. "So...you believe they might have apprehended her?"

"It is _possible_," he said indifferently.

He then looked at both Watson and Gladstone. "She is most likely lost, and her absence has absolutely nothing to do with the cases."

"So, although one of these cases is what led her here, and she has had no trouble finding her way back to Baker Street before, there is _no _chance whatsoever that she could be in danger right now," Watson clarified.

"SLIGHT chance, Watson. There _is_ a slight chance."

Watson sighed. Gladstone cocked his head at them. "You _know_...on the way here, I spotted some odd skid tracks from a stagecoach. _Quite_ odd, don't you think, Holmes? Perhaps if I had known Willa was absent at this time of night, I would have pondered further on the matter..."

Holmes scoffed. "You waste your worries on that woman. Did you not see her bully those three men in that alley a few nights past?"

"Yes, of course I did. But, mind you, those were petty thieves. _These_ culprits have managed to still elude _you_, which suggests a considerable amount of skill. Perhaps we should investigate those tracks, just in case...?"

Watson looked at Holmes. Holmes scratched his head indifferently and looked back at him. Gladstone whined and licked himself.

Holmes then sighed and grabbed his revolver.

"Damn woman, ruining my evening," he muttered darkly before clomping down the stairs.

_**

* * *

**_

_**HOURS ****LATER...**_

As she came to, Willa tried to think back on what had happened. She remembered a policeman, and a stagecoach, and a huge pain in her head.

When Willa was pulled into the stagecoach, had she _really _heard the man say "Giggidy-Giggidy"?!

_No, probably not. Probably my mind just trying to tell me how much I miss watching Family Guy on nights off..._

Willa slowly blinked her eyes open, and it took a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. She became aware of murmuring, it sounded like chanting.

She also realized her head was killing her, and that her wrists and ankles were bound by rope. The object she was laying on was hard and cold.

Great. If she lived, she was going to be dealing with serious headaches and back pains. Serious headaches? Around _Holmes_? She was doomed.

Judging by the familiar metal against her upper thigh, she still had her gun. A good sign.

As her eyes fully focused, she began to make out hooded figures around her in a circle, doing a lot of chanting and bowing.

All of a sudden, a man broke through the circle very slowly, stopping to stand by her head. "Ah. She has awakened," he said ceremoniously.

* * *

"Behold! This subject is proof of the existence of a time rift! I shall prove so."

Hood still on, he turned his head downward towards her. "Of what year do you hail?"

Willa kept her mouth shut, blinking at him defiantly. He shifted, and she noticed the glint of a long and rather sharp-looking knife in his hand.

"I shall repeat the question. Of what year do you hail?"

"...2010.." She said hesitantly.

"This merely proves she knows digits," one member shouted. A few others agreed.

He looked down at her. "Then I shall merely have to open the rift once again. And this time....she shall be the sacrifice, not the summoned."

_Gulp._

* * *

They resumed their chanting, and he went to grab an ancient-looking book. Judging by the symbols she could barely make out on the cover, it was a book of spells.

At least, it _looked _ominous enough..

Willa used his distraction to her advantage, inching her bound hand and upper thigh closer together.

Glancing cautiously at the figures around her, who seemed to be totally absorbed in their weird-ass chanting, she tried to grab the lighter out of her pocket.

Ever since cracking Holmes' safe and getting her new clothes (which she was planning on replacing if she ever got the chance), she had carried a lighter with her, just in case.

Also, if she happened to be facing certain death, she could light up a cigar and welcome it in a classy way, like in movies.

Willa couldn't remember a time she had ever smoked, but she was sure she would figure out how to do it properly when the time came.

Using as little sudden movements as possible, she attempted to move her leg in a way that hiked up her pocket.

Her lighter WOULD be in the deepest part of the damn pocket!

Wincing against the rope burns she was getting with all this stretching and wriggling, she finally got a firm grip on it.

Now she just had to figure out how to burn off the rope without a) alerting anyone or b) burning herself like an idiot.

As if the big man upstairs had finally done her a favor, the hooded figures started bowing and fluidly retreating from the room.

Willa smirked triumphantly and attempted to click her lighter, covering the noises with fake coughs.

Finally, she got a steady flame going while the members of the apparent cult shut the multiple doors to the vast room.

She glanced at the leader cautiously, but he was still studying the book with his back turned to her.

_This might actually work!_ She thought in amazement as she lit the rope.

She then whined in panic and defeat as the whole fricking rope caught on fire.

* * *

This caught the cult member's attention, and he quickly grabbed a giant pitcher, pouring some of the water towards the flame.

Sadly, it went out, and drenched her shirt in the process.

Luckily, the rope was practically ash, so all she had to do was grab her gun at the right moment and moonwalk her way out of there.

"How dare you! How _dare _you interrupt the sacrificial ceremony!" He scolded as if house-training a puppy.

Willa cocked an eyebrow. "...You need serious medical help. Did your mom drop you when you were little? Oh, wait. ....You were _bottle-fed_, _weren't _you?!"

"SILENCE!!" He bellowed, making Willa jump a little.

_That's a big yes._

He raised his giant knife, and she gulped. "Once you have been sacrificed, the rift will open, and I shall summon another item to prove its existence."

Willa could see her _reflection _in the damn thing!

"That knife is _really _clean! Did you use, like, Mr. Clean or something?" She asked, trying to stall so she could have a good enough grip on her gun.

"What _is _this talk?! Silence!!" He snapped, raising his knife even higher, aiming right for her chest.

"Hey! Aim a little lower, if you don't mind! Pervert."

"I DEMAND SILENCE FROM YOU!!"

"And _I_ demanded some money for _women's _clothes, but that doesn't mean it's gonna happen any time soon."

"ENOUGH!!"

"You know, I _also_ asked for an even lower rent, but I don't think I'll get that, either. Not even when I tell that damn detective how I _totally_ escaped this ceremony in one piece," she said casually.

"THAT IS ALL I SHALL TAKE!!"

He plunged his knife, and before Willa could roll off and shoot him, several gunshots rang out from the upper level of the room.

* * *

One of the bullets whizzed past the top of her head, scaring the crap out of her.

The man dropped to the ground in panic, and Willa sat up, glancing around to find the shooters.

Just in case, she made the alien sign she had learned in third grade. "I come in peace!" She shouted cheerfully.

No reply. Great.

Willa poked her head over the side of the slab she was half-tied against to glare at the hooded figure, who was currently shaking with fear.

"I _swear_, if you screwed around with some aliens in that time rift and they eat us, I will _personally haunt you _in the afterlife," she threatened angrily.

"That was somewhat intimidating, my dear," Holmes said nearby, and Willa jumped. Watson stooped above the hooded figure and grabbed the knife. "If you don't mind," he told the man before cutting off the rest of the rope.

Willa hopped off the slab and rubbed her wrist, looking at Watson. "How did you find me? _I_ don't even know where I am."

Holmes fiddled with his hat (_Where the hell did he get that??_) as Scotland Yard barged in.

"Simple. _I_ helped him."

Willa rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Thanks, Watson."

* * *

Holmes abruptly stopped fooling with the stupid hat. "I'm so sorry, but I could have _sworn _you thanked the good doctor, and _not _the one who deduced your exact location."

Willa folded her arms defiantly. "Actually, you heard correctly. Because I'm _sure _if Watson hadn't persuaded you, you wouldn't have found me in the first place."

Watson smiled triumphantly. "The lady has a point, old boy."

Holmes waved them off, glancing at Willa's shirt. "Bah, I don't need your gratitude, anyway. Why don't you let the good doctor tend to your wounds. Perhaps you should find a drier shirt..._woman_."

"Sounds good," Willa replied indifferently. _Damn perverts all over the place!!_

Holmes and Willa glared at each other before turning around and walking in opposite directions with exaggerated steps.

Watson just sighed, shook his head, and took a look at her burnt hand. "What children," he muttered.

"What was that?"

"Oh, er...nothing, nothing at all."

* * *

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**Oh, by the way...you can thank KimTheKat for the "Giggidy-Giggidy" thing.**

**Sorry, couldn't resist finding a way to put it in there!**

**:)**


	7. Willa's High As a Kite

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**Enjoy!**

* * *

Watson shook his head again as Holmes picked up the ice pack and put it on his face.

"What in heaven's name did you do _this _time??"

Holmes glared at the door as if it was all its fault. "That woman overreacted, is all. Bloody infuriating woman!"

Watson sighed and sat down in the chair opposite him. "Well? Go ahead, explain."

"I was merely interested in her background information, is all. I knew from experience she would not willingly and in her right state of mind give me this information, and what with more than half of the cult members escaping from prison last evening, I thought it prudent to know a bit about that...woman. She was ill..."

* * *

**_EARLIER THAT DAY_...**

Three days after being nearly sacrificed, Willa wasn't feeling so hot. Her throat was killing her, she had major headaches, and the slightest movements made her dizzy.

Since Holmes was already gone for the day, she would have all day to relax and get to feeling better.

At least, that's what she _thought_ would happen.

Two hours later, she was dozing off when she heard thumping on the stairs. Willa _really _hoped it was Mrs. Hudson with that tea she had promised.

What she saw truly unnerved her; Holmes opened the door with his back to her, turning around with a tray of tea and a bottle of what she guessed was medicine.

Or drugs.

All that was missing was a woman's bonnet!

Willa eyed him suspiciously. "What the hell are you _doing_??"

"Helping."

"_Helping_. YOU, Holmes, helping ME," Willa clarified.

He sighed dramatically. "Honestly, you seem so surprised, woman."

Willa rolled her eyes, which made her head throb again. "Oh, yes, why would I be? I must be _insane _to think you wouldn't want to help me," she said sarcastically.

Holmes set down the tray, popped off the cap of the bottle, then stared at Gladstone.

Willa looked as well. "What? He seems perfectly normal," Willa said carefully.

He nodded. "Precisely. That's what worries me..."

He then held up the bottle. "With this, you'll be fine in no time."

Willa was suspicious all over again. "Why do I have a hard time believing that's just medicine?"

"What else could it be?"

"I wanna read the bottle before you make me take it."

Holmes moved the bottle closer to him, almost as if he expected her to jump up and snatch it. Not likely; she'd fall over on her face and pass out.

"I honestly don't believe that to be necessary."

"I do."

"Why don't you trust me, woman?" He asked impatiently.

Willa crossed her arms, still sprawled out on the couch. "Well, for one thing, there's a bottle that looks _exactly _like that, meant for eye surgery. Have some of that, and I'll be higher than a kite, if it doesn't kill me!!"

Holmes sighed. "And it's not possible that there could be bottles that look _just _like that scattered across the continent?!"

Willa huffed. "Not when it's concerning _you_, Holmes. I _want_. To read. The damn _bottle_," she repeated slowly as if he didn't know English.

They glared at each other for a few minutes, and he finally put the cap back on the bottle. "Perhaps medicine isn't the best idea at the moment."

"Which is a fancy statement for: 'Willa, you're totally right, I _was _trying to drug you, God-only-knows why'!"

He set the bottle down with more force than necessary, and Willa tried not to laugh. THAT was a tell-tale sign she was right.

Holmes set a tea cup in front of her, then leaned back in his chair.

He blinked as she simply looked at it, then at him. "It is not _poisoned_, I assure you."

He took a huge swig of his own. "See?"

Willa sighed. "Do I _have _to sit up?" She practically whined.

Holmes rolled his eyes before gently grabbing her by the wrist and sitting her up. Willa put a hand to her head as it started to throb, then sighed. "This sucks."

"I don't believe I'm familiar with that term, 'this sucks', but I imagine it's negative," He commented thoughtfully as she drank the stupid tea.

Maybe if she drank it fast enough, he'd leave. It would almost be worth the throat burns...

_**

* * *

**_

_**TWENTY ****MINUTES LATER...**_

Something was weird about this tea. She felt all fuzzy. _Plus, there's the whole everything-he-says-makes-me-laugh-for-two-minutes-straight thing.._

Willa wiggled her fingers, giggling. "My hand looks _sooo _weeeiiirrdd!!"

Holmes seemed to be having a lot of fun with this.

"So, tell me, woman. What was your life like before you ended up in Watson's morgue?"

Willa's face fell a little. "I don't like talking about that, Mister."

"DETECTIVE, woman. What did you do for a living, hmm?"

Willa made a "Psh!" noise and waved her hand to and fro.

"Oh, my job? Hmmm...well, I was hired for lots of stuff! Mostly stealing...and hacking security sys-a-tems and stuff! Ha! Sys-a-tems...funny word!"

"So you're a criminal."

She frowned at him. "Now, now, that's a...that's not totally it. I protected people too! A, um...um...ummmm...Oh! Bodyguard! Yeah, that's it...I was a bodyguard! Damn good one, I was..."

"But you're still a criminal, correct?"

"Nooo...that's a rough term...I prefer 'skilled attainer through ways of questionable legality'!" She said before letting out a random giggle.

Holmes raised his eyebrows. "Interesting how you can use such articulate terms in your current condition.."

Willa made a "Psh!" noise again. "Condition? _What _condition? It's just a headache. And throatache. And that throw-up-y feeling!"

"Nausea?"

"Yeah, that's the one!" She said, pointing at him enthusiastically.

Holmes seemed to be trying his best not to laugh out loud at her. "Well, what about your family?"

Her face fell again. "Ugh, family. Who _needs _family!"

"I take it you are estranged from yours?"

"Estranged? I dunno what that means...whatever! Do you _reeeallly _wanna know about my family, Mister Holmes?"

He sighed. "DETECTIVE. And yes, I do."

"Okay! Hmm lemme see...well, my mom and dad separated when I was thirteen, they re-married, ummm...oh yeah! My stepdad made things really awkward, you know, hitting on me and such, so I left home the night I graduated high school...umm..I have a sister....she lives in Vegas...I think? Yeah! With her husband Jimmy...umm...oh! I almost got pregant once!" She explained cheerfully.

"What else, Mister- uh, I mean, Detective?" She asked, blinking a few times.

Holmes looked thoughtful. Willa made weird noises with her tongue before laughing uncontrollably. "Hehehehe!! My tongue feels all weird and huge!!!"

"It sounds like you don't have many people to rely on, woman."

Willa waved him off, still giggling. "Ehhhh, I get by! Who needs people to rely on when you have _yourself_, right?"

She blinked a couple times. "You know what?"

"What?"

"I just thought of something....I don't think Im acting very normal...am I acting _weird_, Detective Holmes?"

He grinned. "Not at all, woman. You're acting just as I expected."

"Which is normal, right?" She said with a yawn.

"Naturally. Do you know why they chose you for that sacrifice?"

Willa frowned in thought. "No. Not really. But I DO know that my arms feel really heavy....is that normal? I've never had hot tea before."

"NEVER had hot tea?"

She shook her head quickly before smacking her tongue again. "Nope! I'm from Tennessee, Holmes! We're all about tall, cool glasses of sweet tea....and beer!"

"Ah, well, the beer I can relate to."

She let out a random giggle again. "Oh, I know. You drink beer like a man that's been stranded in the desert for weeks. Say, I'm feeling really sleepy...is that normal, too?"

"Completely normal," he assured her.

Willa nodded tiredly before smacking her tongue again. "Seriously, my tongue feels all freaky! It's a super-freak, super-freak, it's super freaky!" She sang before giggling again.

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Does it look weird to you?" She asked, though it came out weird since her tongue was sticking out.

He shook his head, grinning from ear to ear. It was rather unlike Holmes. "Not at all, my dear. You're fine."

There was a loud farting noise, and they both looked at each other. Willa broke out into uncontrollable laughter, pointing at Holmes.

"Ha ha ha ha ha!! YOU, Sherlock Holmes, just _farted_!!"

He rolled his eyes. "It was the dog."

"_Suuure _it was!"

"It _was_, woman, I promise you!"

She wiggled her pointer finger in small circles. "Nah-ah-ah! Heeey, look! I'm noott toouching yooouu!!"

He swatted her hand away, and she giggled again before suddenly stopping. She blinked a couple times. "Mmmm...I'm really sleepy..."

She promptly fell back against the couch, snoring away.

_**

* * *

**_

_**FOUR ****HOURS LATER...**_

"Ugh...what happened?" Willa mumbled to herself, blinking a couple times to wake herself up.

Holmes was currently writing stuff down, but quickly shut the notebook after noticing she was awake.

"Ah. Welcome back, woman."

Willa eyed the book suspiciously. "Whatchya writing there, Holmes?"

"Nothing," he said innocently.

Feeling a bit better, Willa snatched the book, flipping to the page she had seen him writing on.

Skimming it over, she glared at him every few words.

"Why is my personal life written in one of your journals? Huh? How do you know all this?!"

He smirked innocently. "Well, my dear, _you _told me everything. I merely wanted to remember it all for investigative purposes."

He gestured to an old-fashioned ice pack sitting by the tray. "You might need that."

It was then that Willa remembered. She shot up, pointing an accusing finger at him. "YOU!! You DRUGGED me!?! What the hell is _wrong _with you?!"

"I needed information-"

"Okay, you know what?! I don't even _want _to know! God, Holmes! What part of 'I don't like talking about it' does _not _compute to you?!"

"I disagree. I think you DO want to talk about it, but don't want to come off as a needy street urchin, or something of the sort. Am I right?"

Watson walked in right about the time that Willa slapped Holmes and stormed off, muttering darkly to herself.

_**

* * *

**_

_**BACK ****IN THE PRESENT...**_

Watson sighed and shook his head as Holmes adjusted the ice pack against his still-red cheek.

"You _drugged _her tea? How?"

"I figured she wouldn't accept the drug if in a bottle, so I took the liberty of slipping it in her tea when Mrs. Hudson wasn't paying attention. Nanny never suspected a thing, merely thinking I was actually _caring_ for that..._woman_," he explained dully.

Watson let out a breath. "You shouldn't have done that, Holmes. You have _serious _complications with respecting one's private matters."

Holmes huffed moodily. "It gives her no right to slap me, merely for being right. Does it, Watson."

"Yes, actually, it does."

"That was not an interrogative sentence, therefore doe not require an answer," He replied moodily.

Watson stood up, rolling his eyes. "You want to know what I think?"

"Not really."

"I think you should apologize."

* * *

Holmes scoffed, looking at Gladstone for backup. "I don't apologize. You know that, Watson. Apologies are meant for when one was in the wrong. I have yet to be in the wrong in a situation."

Watson motioned at Holmes, currently leaning back into his armchair. "You simply do not understand people."

"I understand people plenty!" He said defensively. "I understand their logic, their reasoning, their reactions, their whereabouts-"

"But you fail to understand _people_, Holmes. You fail to understand the meaning of _boundaries_, or _emotions_, and you _certainly _fail to understand women in general," Watson added with a tiny laugh.

Holmes glared at him. "I take offense to that, you know."

"Fine. Take all the offense you want. Just apologize. Unless, of course, you want Willa to exact her _own revenge_....I'm sure she has all _kinds _of means to do so..." Watson prompted, strolling casually out the door.

As the door shut, Holmes looked at Gladstone, who proceeded to scratch his ear and lick himself.

"I am _not _apologizing. Nothing Watson _or _that woman can do or say shall make me apologize. SHE should apologize for overreacting!"

Gladstone cocked his head at him with a whine.

Holmes sighed in annoyance. "I'M NOT APOLOGIZING!!"

* * *

**Ah. Holmes, Holmes, Holmes. **

**Anyway. I'm sick as a dog! **

**And the narcotic I'm on makes me act either like Willa or Gladstone on anesthetics, depending on the day!**

**Reviews would make me fell better, i think :)**


	8. Holmes Is Warming Up To Me!

**Yay, I'm back AND i'm better! mostly...im still coughing every now and then.**

**The fact that my two bratty little cousins pushed me into a 48-degree-pool did NOT help things... sigh.**

**Anyway! Enjoy:)**

* * *

Willa could killl him right now. She really could.

She hated thinking about her past, and all the mistakes. And yet here she was, slumped against an alley wall, doing nothing but thinking about it.

_What gives him the right to do that? Does he drug EVERY person he meets when they choose to keep their private life private?!_

_Jeez!_

And with all the memories, one topic stood in sharp contrast compared to the others.

She couldn't remember much through the haze of Holmes' stupid drug, but she remembered mentioning it. _"I almost got pregnant once!"_

Such a simple sentence. She had even laughed care-freely after she said it. Now, thinking back, she still felt that melancholy feeling in her gut.

"I'm not apologizing."

* * *

Willa glanced up and glared at him. "Going away would work just as well as an apology."

"Since when do I take heed to your requests, woman?"

"Don't you have something better to do?"

"Not really."

"Do you have...ANYTHING else to do? Drug Gladstone again?"

Then she scoffed. "Oh, wait. You used it all on _me_. How could I forget?!"

Holmes simply rolled his eyes. "You are a particularly bitter woman, you know."

"I'm not bitter! I'm pissed off, there's a pretty moderately-sized difference," she informed him matter-of-factly.

He pointed a finger at her, and she glared at it. "You want to know what your problem is, woman? You overreact."

Willa's jaw dropped. "Overreact? _Overreact_?! You _drugged_ me, Holmes! Drugging people is kind of illegal, you know! God, you could've _killed_ me! And on top of that, you used it to learn stuff about me that I don't want anyone to know. It's...it was _wrong_," she fumed.

"Woman, you're a criminal. Right and wrong don't matter to you criminals."

"I do what I have to, thank you very much. See, _this_ is why I slapped you. You have no respect for people!"

Holmes scoffed. "Maybe no one has gained my respect yet."

"Maybe you should lower your expectations."

"Maybe humanity should meet my expectations."

"Maybe it's time to give up on humanity."

"Maybe it's time humanity rose to my standards."

"You just said that."

"No, you seem to be mistaken. What I said earlier was this: 'Maybe humanity should meet my expectations'."

"Which is another way of saying 'Maybe it's time humanity rose to my standards'."

"Well....you're wrong, end of discussion."

Willa would normally continue to argue, but figured that if she was nice and quiet, he'd leave her alone.

But he didn't. So she continued not to say anything. Neither did he.

Was this some kind of competition now?

Well, _she _wasn't going to be the first to break the silence. She folded her arms, resting them on her drawn-up knees, and looked at her feet.

_**

* * *

**_

_**TEN ****MINUTES LATER...**_

"DAMMIT, WILL YOU JUST SAY SOMETHING?!" Willa finally shouted.

To her immense pleasure, Holmes actually jumped a little. She grinned. "Ah-HA! He _does _jump."

Holmes simply looked at his pocketwatch casually. "Alright, woman. How about this? I will ignore everything you say unless it has to do with why you hate your past. And until you _do _explain why you hate it so, I shall wait right here."

"And if I leave?"

"I follow you."

"See, I just said something unrelated to why I hate my past. So, _already _you're screwing up."

"Since you were inquiring the conditions within my declaration, which was directed towards the subject of why you hate your past, I have not 'screwed up' yet, woman."

Willa simply huffed and stared at her feet some more, thinking back on her memories again.

_**

* * *

**_

_**FIVE ****MINUTES LATER...**_

"I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for that," she blurted thoughtfully.

"Your apology for slapping me is accepted," Holmes said cheerfully. Willa jumped, not realizing he was still there.

She glared at him. "Not for _that_!"

"Then for what?"

"...Nothing."

"For _what_?"

"Nothing!"

"For what?!"

"NOTHING."

"I am just going to keep asking you, woman, so you might as well explain your outburst."

Willa huffed. "Fine! I was talking about the baby."

Holmes gave her the old once-over. "...You're with child?"

She frowned and looked at her feet again. "No. I was, though." She was too depressed to wonder if she LOOKED pregnant.

"What happened, then?"

"Why should I tell _you_?"

"Quite right. Drugging you is a lot easier and more successful, anyway. Not to mention it makes you a bit more enjoyable, since you agree with everything I say for a while."

Willa huffed again. "Fine, fine! Just...don't bring it up after tonight, okay?"

"I shall try my best," he said way-too-cheerfully.

Willa was about to glare at him and say that wasn't good enough, but the truth was, she was wondering if telling someone about it would help a little.

* * *

"Well, um...My boyfriend at the time had this whole little plan. That we'd get married right after high school and have a couple kids, and...it freaked me out. I was barely seventeen, I had my whole life ahead of me, y'know? Well...he made the decision for me."

She tucked some hair behind her ear, then just glared at the strands defiantly as they fell right back where they had been before.

"...And then what?"

If the subject wasn't about her almost-baby, she would've grinned all smug-like at how interested he seemed.

"I...I took care of it."

"You mean, you have a child back home?"

She laughed bitterly. "Are you kidding? I wasn't even a legal adult yet. I could barely take care of _myself_, much less a _kid_."

"So...you gave the child away?"

Willa sighed impatiently. "No, Holmes, I didn't. Alright, now there's only one guess left. See if you can figure it out. Jeez!"

"You mean you-"

"Yeah, I did."

She shifted uncomfortably. She knew he was staring at her, but she didn't dare look up.

"The doctor said it wouldn't hurt, but she was wrong. It hurt like hell; physically and emotionally. I remember feeling so...so _relieved_. And it made me feel ashamed for feeling so relieved. I remember thinking over and over, 'It's not fair. It's not fair for the kid.' But I didn't have a say in the matter. Not only did I get no say when I got pregnant in the first place, I didn't have a say in the kid's fate. NOW do you understand why I like blocking my past out?"

There was a bit of a silence. She almost wondered if he had just left during her rambling.

_Can't say I blame him.._

Willa wasn't going to look up to find out. As long as she kept looking at the dull cobblestone she had already grown used to, she wouldn't start crying.

Then, out of nowhere, Holmes crouched down so he was at her level. "Listen carefully, woman. What you are about to hear will probably never happen ever, ever, EVER again. I have multiple things to say."

He paused, and Willa waited patiently. Now she was hella curious.

"First, I would like to bring to your attention that it is now almost ten o'clock at night, just so you're aware. Second, know that none of it was your fault. What occurred was due to a series of unfortunate events, none of which were quite preventable by you. And lastly, I...er..."

Willa wound her finger in an impatient "go on" motion. "Continue.."

"I...apologize."

* * *

She stared at him in stunned silence. Well, for about seven seconds, anyway. She laughed in disbelief. "You...YOU, Sherlock Holmes...just _apologized_?! I never thought it possible!"

He glared at her. "Just remember that nothing even close to the prior conversation will ever happen again. EVER."

Willa just smirked triumphantly. "Yeah, okay Holmes. _Sure_."

"Can I go home now without fretting over your uncanny talent for get yourself into mischief?"

She shrugged, and he patted her knee cheerfully before shooting up into a standing position. Willa shot after him, and he must've seen it coming, because he started hauling ass for Baker Street.

She jogged happily after him. She started singing at the top of her lungs, switching out into different annoying, random, and child-like voices, "Holmes is warming uuuup to me! Hooolmess is waaaarmiingg uuuuuuuuup to meee!!"

_**

* * *

**_

_**THIRTY-FIVE ****MINUTES LATER...**_

"Hoooolmess is waaaarmiingg _uuuuuuuuup _to meee, Hoooolmess is-"

"SHUT THE HELL _UP_, WOMAN!"

"REMEMBER MR. SO-AND-SO, REMEMBER, I'M A LADY!!"

"Oh, you little-"

Mrs. Hudson simply sighed and continued to stir her tea as they stomped up the stairs, slamming the door before continuing their argument.

Watson flung the door open soon afterward, and for a second, she could hear their argument even clearer. Luckily, he shut it quickly, taking the steps two at a time.

Mrs. Hudson sighed and pointed at the ceiling. "Honestly. Those two children bicker like a married couple. A very immature married couple."

Watson chuckled, slipping on his coat. "Yes, well. At least she keeps him occupied. He uses his gun in times of boredom a lot less, I noticed."

"Indeed. Perhaps Ms. Willa has prolonged my life for a little while longer."

Watson laughed and bid her good night before leaving.

Mrs. Hudson glanced at the ceiling again before heading briskly for her bedroom, sipping her tea as she went.

Hopefully their quarrel would be over with quickly, so she could get some decent slumber.

* * *

**Hahaha, poor Mrs. Hudson. i dont know how she does it.**

**Anyway, REVIEW!**


	9. Are We There YET?

**Back! sorry for getting lazy on you...i have a lot of end-of-8th-grade stuff i had to take care of. i barely had three hours to myself for the past two weeks, even after school! **

**Ahhh! so depressing!**

**ANYWAY. i think some of you will like where this goes!**

**Enjoy. :)**

* * *

Willa was awakened by something hitting her on the ass.

She shot upright. "Holmes?!" She called out groggily, hoping to God that it was an object and not a hand that had smacked her there.

She blinked and realized it was just a random book, and picked it up curiously. _Wasn't Watson reading this a day or two ago...?_

"I have a new case," Holmes announced grandly as if she were supposed to care.

Willa threw the book back at him, aiming for his head. She would've hit him dead on, too, if he hadn't ducked at the last second.

She frowned at him. "You woke me up just to tell me _that_?"

"Since it means we need to leave, yes, I did."

"Leave? Why? When? How?? Wait, WHAT?!"

"Yes, because I said so, in three minutes precisely, and by the usual method of transportation. Oh, and the what would be that we are leaving."

"And who's we?"

"Watson and I."

"What about me?!" She exclaimed, shooting up.

"You can watch things over here, woman. You are more than capable."

"Are you kidding?! Isn't that Hudson's job?!"

He simply patted her head like she was a dog. "Don't make me bite you," she muttered under her breath.

"Biting isn't necessary. You would merely be a hindrance to the case."

"Um, HELLO?! What's the case?"

"Catch a thief."

She threw up a hand and followed him out the room and down the stairs. "Who better to help catch a thief than a FELLOW thief, Holmes?!"

"Who better to betray the authorities in favor of a thief, than a fellow thief?" He retorted.

Willa rolled her eyes, then smirked. "Tell you what. I'll fight you for it."

He paused, cocking his head in interest. "As in hand-to-hand combat?"

"That's generally what a fight consists of, yeah."

Holmes laughed. "Very well then. You have a deal, woman."

And they shook on it.

_**

* * *

**_

_**FIVE ****MINUTES LATER...**_

"At first I was worried about hurting her. Well, not because I _care_," he added quickly as Watson's eyebrows shot up.

"Oh. Of course, Holmes. Then _why_ were you worried, exactly?"

"Simple. If I had hurt that...that...WOMAN, I would _never _hear the end of that argument!"

"So...Instead, you let her beat you?"

Willa was passing by at that exact moment, and laughed. "Chyeah, _right_!"

Holmes glared at her as she walked away, narrowing his eyes until she was completely out of his view, to which Watson just smirked.

He then cleared his throat. "Well, unfortunately, the woman is right. I did at first, but then I got a bit..._provoked_."

"By which you mean she was starting to beat you horribly and you got irked?"

"That's what I said!"

"Okay, Holmes. Anyway, go on?"

"Right. So I started trying and had the upper hand for a spell. Unfortunately, I underestimated that scrawny, short woman. She sure knows how to give good blows," he muttered gloomily, rubbing his sore jaw tenderly.

"She was probably just channeling her anger towards you and your drugging episode," Watson commented, making Holmes wave him off.

"Honestly, Watson. I apologized!"

"Oh. .._Wait _a moment, you did _what_??"

"Er...Nothing."

"You _apologized_?"

"Absolutely not."

"Yes you did! I can tell! _You_ apologized to _Willa_!" Watson declared, pointing at him before laughing. "Ahhh. I knew it. You DO care about Willa. At least a small portion."

"It means nothing of the sort! I simply valued my life. She has a gun, if you recall."

Holmes groaned as he put the ice against his bruised cheek. "Although, I _shall _say this. There is nothing more attractive than a woman beating a man at his own game."

Watson just shook his head slowly, grabbing the book Holmes had thrown at Willa this morning and secretively slipping it into his bag for the long trip east.

Willa beating him in a fist-fight was _pleasing and attractive _to him? How odd. But nothing out of the ordinary for Holmes, he had to admit.

"If you say such, Holmes. If you say such."

"I did, Watson. Were you not paying attention?"

"I paid attention long enough to see your attraction to her."

"There is nothing of the sort!" He cried out defensively, to which Watson got an impish smirk on his face.

"How about a bet?"

"Name it."

_**

* * *

**_

_**SEVEN ****HOURS LATER...**_

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"How about now?"

"No."

"...Now?"

"NO."

"Alright. ...Well, how about _now_??"

"NO!"

"And now?"

"DAMMIT, SHUT THE HELL UP, YOU BLASTED ANNOYING WOMAN!!!" Holmes finally shouted, making Willa laugh gleefully and Watson sigh in annoyance.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"....Okay, I bet for sure-"

"NO."

"I didn't finish!"

"Oh. Well, just a guess: the answer is NO!!!"

"Well, you'll have to let me finish first!" She snapped before continuing.

"I bet for sure you want to absolutely _murder_ me right now," she announced pleasantly.

Holmes smirked at the window. "In that case, the answer would be a rather loud and passionate 'YES'."

"Oh, and are we there yet?"

"Dammit, woman!!!"

"We ARE here!!" Watson shouted as they begun arguing like children. Again.

They both stopped mid-sentece. Willa beamed happily, and Holmes sighed in heavy relief. "Oh, thank God!"

Apparently Holmes had tracked the thief all the way to France. Needless to say, this involved a lot of different modes of transportation.

Which meant in turn that the trip had produced a hyper Willa and homicidal Holmes.

She was the first out of the buggy, stretching toward the sky happily. "I was beginning to think I would never see anything other than the inside of that damn buggy ever again," she muttered to herself.

Then she gaped at the massive building spanning out in front of them.

"Ho. Ly. Shit," she stated, to which Holmes smirked. "Did you think I was poor?"

"Poor's a nice word. I was thinking more along the lines of a druggie bum," she stated dully.

"Well, I _can _afford a hotel like this, so there you have it," he stated before grabbing his bag.

Willa, of course, didn't have any bags. She had all she needed on her person.

* * *

She and Watson watched warily as he led them through the lobby. "He sure is proud of himself right now," she commented.

"I am sure he just likes to see you surprised at what he can manage to do," Watson replied innocently, to which Willa rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, Watson. I _really _hope your fiancee is around, because you really need to direct your pent-up romantic thoughts towards something _worthwhile_."

He brightened. "Actually, she is. She is on holiday here. I am still arranging to see her during our investigation."

"Well, good," she said cheerfully. "So....Do you have any idea who this thief is?"

"Haven't the foggiest, as I'm sure Holmes doesn't either," he said just as brightly.

Willa shrugged. "Cool. More free time!"


	10. Sometimes You Can be TOO Competitive!

**Weeelll, I'm back! **

**This idea was kinda out there, but i thought it'd be funny :D**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

"What in God's name is she doing?" Some random voice asked.

Willa jumped into a ninja-stance with a karate yell, but it was just Holmes and...

_Ho._

_Ly._

_Crap._

_It's Zidler!_

Yes, Willa was a fan of Moulin Rouge. She had only seen that movie about 324,586,999 times!

She cleared her throat anxiously. "Oh. Uh, I was walking around my room in circles."

"...Why?"

"I was bored," she replied cheerfully at the same time Holmes replied "She's a rather odd woman."

She narrowed her eyes at Holmes, then beamed at Zidler. "You're Harold Zidler, right? Owner of the Moulin Rouge?"

He beamed right back at her. "That's correct. You must be Willa."

"That I am! How's it goin'?"

"How's what going?"

"Uhhh, nothing. Wait, how the hell do you know THE Harry Zidler, Holmes?"

Holmes shrugged. "We were childhood friends."

"WHAT? How the hell did YOU get to befriend such an awesome person?"

He narrowed his eyes, and Zidler laughed happily at their behavior. "How delightful! I believe Watson was right, she would do wonderfully."

Willa looked at them suspiciously. "Do _what _wonderfully, exactly?"

Zidler turned serious. "One of our main acts, Satine, has fallen ill. I was telling Holmes about how desperately we needed an act for at least tonight, and his colleague, Watson, suggested you."

"Who knows _why_," Holmes muttered, making Willa glare at him.

"I'd be happy to! I know her act by heart!"

Both Zidler's and Holmes' eyebrows shot up. "You have been to the Moulin Rouge?"

"I...guess you could say that. Yes, yes I have!"

Zidler clapped his hands together as Holmes continued to stare at her skeptically. "Splendid! Marvelous! The show WILL go on! Be sure to arrive by 10:30, my dear," he informed her before scurrying out the door.

As soon as he left, Willa looked at Holmes. "So. What's the REAL reason I'm doing this?"

"We believe our thief might be either in the audience or another act."

Willa smirked. "Ha! That means you'll be watching me?"

"Unfortunately."

She laughed mischieviously. "This should be fun. Be prepared, Holmes. You might not be able to resist me after tonight, and I don't wanna be held responsible for any perverted thoughts that could temporarily seep into your brain."

Holmes rolled his eyes and headed for the door. "I had always thought you were daft, but now it has been confirmed."

Willa laughed and shook her head. "This is fun."

_**

* * *

**_

_**EIGHT ****HOURS LATER...**_

Willa had done Satine's routine for "Sparkling Diamonds," and even added some gymnastics into it.

The look on Holmes' face when she stole his hat at the end? _Priceless_. Watson had laughed his ass off.

From the audience (All male. Shocking.), she had definitely racked up in her jewelry collection. A Tiffany's bracelet, Cartier earrings, and a necklace from Zidler himself were added to her collection, which had previously consisted of some bangles and the locket she snuck out of Holmes' safe a long time ago.

She was told she could keep the dress, and was busy changing shoes (it was a miracle she hadn't tripped in those heels) when she noticed a fellow redhead watching her every move.

And it wasn't Satine.

Willa finally looked at the woman questioningly. "Can I help you?"

The woman smiled. "Actually, you can. That man whose hat you're wearing. Do you know him?"

Willa rolled her eyes. "Sadly, yes. Tragic, really. I'm forced to live with him."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Really? Why?"

"Long story."

"Are you one of his cases?"

"Yeah, actually. Guess the story wasn't too long after all."

The woman chuckled and extended a hand. "I'm Irene."

"Willa."

They talked for a little while longer, but Willa then had to leave. When she caught up with Watson and Holmes, the first thing Watson said was, "Excellent job!"

He currently had his arm linked with who she assumed was Mary, his fiancee, and she nodded in agreement.

The first thing HOLMES said was, "Where on Earth did you get those roses from?"

She glared at him. "A guy from the audience had them delivered to me. Apparently I really DID do an excellent job, just like Watson and the looks you kept giving me had informed me."

"Pfft. The only looks I gave you were of boredom."

"Whatever Holmes. Whatever. Anyways, thanks Watson and Mary. Nice to meet you, by the way. You're all he ever talks about."

Mary beamed at that, and Watson gave Willa a look that more-or-less read "Thanks so much for the brownie points".

She mouthed "You're SO welcome" while Mary teased Holmes about Willa and "how much you blanched during her amazing performance".

It wasn't until they were almost back at the hotel that she realized her bracelet was missing, stolen right under her nose.

The only person she had come in close enough contact with was Irene, when they had shook hands.

Could it have been her? Was _she_ the thief? Willa decided she'd have to go back some other day and look into it.

_**

* * *

**_

_**AN ****HOUR OR SO LATER...**_

Yet another man commented on her performance as he was passing by, and Willa rolled her eyes after he left.

Holmes made a weird chuckle-like noise to himself, and she glanced at him. "What?"

"Nothing. Not a thing."

"No, what?"

"Nothing."

"Something."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"YES."

"NO."

"YES YES YES!"

"NO, stop _asking_, woman!"

Willa crossed her arms and huffed, and he made the weird noise again, making her snap, "WHAT?"

"You're entertaining."

She sighed in disappointment. "Damn. I thought you were gonna tell me something I _didn't _already know."

"You know, I am starting to wonder why exactly I let you tag along. It isn't as if you have been beneficial to the case AT ALL," he commented.

"Holmes, we _just _got here! Besides. You let me tag along because otherwise you wouldn't be able to bug the hell outta me for a week or so."

"Humph."

"Why do _you _sound so offended? _I'm _the one getting annoyed, here."

"Because you assume I cannot go a week without your presence, which is completely inaccurate."

She waved him off. "You know it's true, Holmes. You need someone to pester, and Watson is too busy with Mary," she pointed out, cocking her head in the direction of the aforementioned couple, who were walking around arm-in-arm.

He waved HER off. "Believe me, woman. I would _much _rather have you in another country and just get by without pestering anyone for a while than have you _here _pestering ME."

"Well, if I'm such a bother, how come you keep looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" He asked in an obviously annoyed tone.

Willa gestured at his general direction. "You know, all...I dunno."

"You have a way with words, woman."

"Why, _thank _you!"

Holmes sighed in agitation. "Honestly, how does Watson not want to just grab a gun and shoot you?"

"The same way you do."

"No, believe me, woman, nothing would bring me greater pleasure."

They tried to stare each other down for a few moments, then Willa made a noise of frustration. "God! How did she NOT kill you when she had the chance?"

"Who?"

_Irene, your ex._ "Nobody..." She said innocently, blinking at him and widening her brown eyes. Always the key to getting people off your back.

Holmes simply laughed. "Your charms won't work on me, woman. It's not exactly a hardship to resist you."

She huffed, then laughed. "Holmes, I'm not trying to charm you, I just wanted to drop the subject. Trust me, if I tried, you wouldn't last."

He scoffed. "Woman, you are way too boastful."

She smirked. "What, you don't believe me?"

"In a word, no."

"Fine, then. I bet you that by the end of the night, you give in."

"What's the price?"

"Several things." She started counting them off on her fingers. "One, I want to stay for free. If I'm forced to be in your presence all the time, I shouldn't have to pay for it. Two, I want the lock put back on the bathroom door."

"I told you, I had nothing to do with that! It was a burglar!"

"And all they stole was that _one _locking doorknob? REALLY, Holmes?"

"Woman, I apprehend criminals. I never said I understood all of them."

"Whatever, Holmes, just...whatever. Get it back. And finally, I want money. At least 397 pounds."

He looked like he wanted to strangle her, but simply said, "Very well. And if I win, I want a few things as well."

"Such as?"

"One, I want you to stop changing my lock combination."

She huffed, but otherwise let him continue.

"Two, I want to increase the rent. Just because you want it eradicated," he said cheerfully.

This time, she glared at him.

"And three, I want you to stop constantly asking 'Are we there yet?' during trips. Also, no more throwing books at my head. Deal?"

She reached across the table and shook on it with a smirk. "Sure, since you're inevitably gonna lose."

He smirked right back. "We shall see about that."

_**

* * *

**_

_**EIGHT ****HOURS LATER...**_

_**KNOCK-KNOCK.**_

"Holmes?"

"What?"

Watson poked his head through the door to see Holmes sprawled out on his bed. _Odd, he is usually awake and out of bed by this hour...Perhaps the long travelling we did yesterday has exhausted him.._

"Have you seen Willa? Mary was looking for her."

"Haven't the foggiest," he said with an anxious laugh.

Watson probably should've questioned further, but just sighed. "Alright."

"I think I heard her talking to herself about getting a newspaper when she passed by my door. She should be back any moment," Holmes continued.

Watson nodded slowly. "Yes. Yes, you're probably right. Thank you, Holmes."

"Be sure to shut that door all the way, would you, Watson?"

"Of course."

As soon as the door shut, Holmes watched in groggy amusement as Willa's hand shot out from under the bed, grabbing her shoe, and she did the jump-to-get-your-shoe-on maneuver.

"I can't believe he never noticed it laying there," she muttered to herself before buttoning up the rest of her shirt.

"Why would he? The thought of you being in my room, much less under my bed, is a bit unexpected."

Willa shrugged, heading for his door. "I _told _you I'd win. Have fun meeting all my demands."

She then turned around to look at him. "Oh, by the way. This changes _nothing _between us, except for the fact that I _so _won this bet. Agreed?"

"Agreed. And if you don't mind, don't tell Watson. I have a wager with him on the matter."

"Agreed," she replied. Mainly because she had a similar bet going with Watson. Plus, he'd immediately jump to the conclusion that last night meant MORE than just a bet, and it wasn't.

Much.

Willa poked her head out the door, saw the coast was clear, and went back to her room.

When she was gone, Holmes shook his head in amazement. "That woman never ceases to puzzle and amaze me..."


	11. Please, Please, PLEASE Read This

You guys.

I cannot. Even. Begin. To tell you all. How deeply sorry I am.

Those of you who were PM'ing me regularly, I think you last heard I had strep throat. I got sick with a stomach virus not long after, at least, that's what I thought it was.

It wasn't. I was sick for almost a month, and after lots of blood work and shots and an ultrasound, my doctor discovered I had literally _no_ Vitamin D and _no_ Vitamin B- namely B12. This equals no energy, very poor health, brittle nails, not being able to keep food down, lots of fun stuff. This was back in September of 2011, and I _still_ have to take 4000 units of Vitamin D a day and get B12 shots monthly. ...Speaking of which, I'm exhausted as I'm typing this and in need of my latest shot. But my levels are slowly going back to normal. They're almost halfway to the minimum range a normal person's level should be now.

However, I got sick with some of the same symptoms later on in the year, around November or something, I think. Couldn't keep food down, couldn't do much of anything, and when I did eat, my stomach would swell. THAT was new. And I'm not talking Food Baby Swelling, I mean "Oh my dear Aizen, it looks like I've swallowed a tire" swelling. Not to mention I had gained weight. ...Like...twenty pounds _easy_ kind of weight over the course of a few months. Which made no sense because, like I said, I wasn't eating much of anything. So, after yet MORE blood drawn, shots given, and a gallbladder test with IVs galore - did I mention I used to have a fear of needles until this April after, what, the twenty-eighth fuckin' blood test? - it took two other doctors to discover I had a motility issue. Which basically means something was causing a backup in my intestines and nothing was exiting my system as quick as it should have been.

So I was put on these little pink pills to take before meals three times a day, which I'm still on. My pill list has gone down exponentially as of recently, but it's still a pretty fucking huge list.

On a more personal note, I went through a death of a really close family member, a new relationship that damn near sucked the life out of me as he slowly turned out to be...for lack of a more flattering term...manipulative bastard from whom I tolerated things I would _never_ have tolerated before and never will again, AND most importantly, I was trying desperately to keep my grades up.

Ya'all, I am genuinely amazed I passed Sophomore year with the grades I did. After missing over 30 days of school, my lowest semester average was an 81. It was even _more_ pressure because my school's grade system is a bit more challenging compared to others nearby, not to mention my absences made me have to take _every_ exam (which counts for a fourth of our final grade), and I had an _extremely_ difficult college-level exam for AP World History that even a close college friend of mine thought was sent from hell.

Those of you who watch my deviantART account - for whatever reason - also know I've been posting stuff on there and managing Ask Accounts with almost no problem. ...That takes a lot less effort than it does continuing stories. Answering people's questions and drawings were methods of keeping me sane and from being overwhelmed with everything, and I'm not trying to excuse not talking to anyone on here or even giving you guys an update for so long, but it's the only thing I can provide as an explanation for why I was keeping things up there and not here.

That and I was wanting to write an Author's Note when I had some updated chapters and possibly the first chapter to a Bleach sequel ready to post for you guys. Or at least under the works. But I felt worse and worse the longer I put this note off, and I have to admit to you all, I have nothing written so far.

I wouldn't call it Writer's Block, just Exhausted Writing Mind. So many essays, projects, studying - it all made answering questions and drawing a welcome change. And now I have a shitload of Summer Work to do, but I have plenty of time to do it. After I get at least a third of that out of the way - which I'm close to doing, actually - I hope to get back into writing again.

I miss writing. I miss talking to you all. I really do.

I must warn you though, my writing has likely changed some. I've grown more, mentally and emotionally, and I honestly don't know whether or not that's a good thing. And I'm not sure I'll be updating regularly, I'm scared I'll get sick again, I'm scared to not stay on top of my schoolwork.

I'm one of the best slackers around, but I can't pull off _that_ good of a balancing act. And if I want to become a psychologist one day - which I do, I really truly do, and that "one day" is getting even closer now that I'm a Junior - I need to put my academics first.

Also, I didn't have a laptop until Spring break. So I didn't have THAT many options, see? And once I had it, I used it _almost_ exclusively for school; there were the occasional deviantART chat antics and Skype conversations to clear my mind.

Because if I sat here and typed down that I did nothing but schoolwork on this thing, my laptop would likely get so pissed at that bold-faced lie that it would fry itself.

Now that I think about it after rambling on this Author's Note, I think the main reason I haven't written anything is because I've been almost scared to. I didn't want to write a new chapter here and there, get everyone excited, and then disappear off the face of the earth again.

But I promise you all right now, I'm gonna do my best to get back in the swing of things. This was my most difficult year health-wise, and you honestly have no idea how much it's affected me. Physically and mentally. And how stressed I've been. And am. But I can't wait to get back to my stories again, and break out of my old habits writing-wise: firstly with fixing my habit of making redhead OCs. I honestly don't even know how that came about, _yes_ I have red hair, and I _do_ have a couple close friends with even MORE red hair. And the OCs were all of the same make-up, but to be honest, it wasn't even wish fulfillment. I didn't imagine these characters as myself, I didn't pair them with people I'd want to be paired with. They just appeared that way in my brain, I wrote down the first chapter, and from there my fingers took care of the rest. Every twist and turn surprised me as much as it surprised you to read it, and I've laughed and raged just like some of you might have. I think it was more of a familiar territory kind of thing. But you can only do so much of that before accepting your mistakes and fixing them, right?

And I'm going to work on my character development, too. You can't make your OCs well-rounded and then just kind of go halfway with everyone else. Like I said, I've grown a bit. And dammit, after the long wait I've put ya'all through, you deserve some originality. ...Well, more originality.

On that note, I'll end this rambling note and just hope you guys can forgive me. Feel free to leave a review or PM me saying whatever you'd like, I wouldn't be surprised if some of you are angry. Or if you just wanna say hi and tell me how things have been for YOU since I've been gone. I really do care about people who read the random stuff I put on here, and I remember most if not _**all** _of my reviewers, I swear on my Chips A'Hoy. ...Which I hold very dear to my heart, just saying.

And please, take care of yourselves. Exercise at least a little regularly, go out and enjoy the sun, enjoy your friends, enjoy life! I've been cooped up all year, and lemme tell ya, that'll get you to long for the outdoors like nothing else. I've also discovered that even I, the great Mandy, can perceive people through rose-colored glasses. Be aware of exactly who it is you're dealing with, and if your girlfriend or boyfriend - or anyone- gives off red flags, no matter how small they are, no matter how badly you want to just overlook them, ponder them. Think carefully about them. And don't be afraid to break things off. I wasn't, and though it was hard afterward, I can't imagine how much worse it would have been if I'd let it keep going.

Just...be careful, you guys. I care about you all.

Glad to be back,

Mandy~


End file.
